Give Nigel My Love!
by Merrybeans
Summary: Nigel needs to do some Christmas shopping and makes a new acquaintance.


**A/N:** This was done for Angie's birthday. (She did get it then, I've just been lazy in uploading it here.) My first Relic Hunter fanfic – I have more to follow, promise! Please drop a review and let me know what you think; I'm open to all feedback.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognise from Relic Hunter.

**Dedication:** For Angie. Happy Birthday, my friend!

**Give Nigel My Love!  
**

Nigel shuffled along the pavement and pulled his coat tighter around him. It was cold, colder than London's winters had ever been. Muttering to himself, he shoved his hands deep inside his pockets and walked faster.

Why had he been silly enough to come out at this time of night? He should have known it would be freezing! Still, he reminded himself it was for Sydney. If it had been anyone else he probably would not have been able to find the motivation to go shopping at eight o'clock one December evening.

The local bookstore was holding a Christmas shopping evening and Nigel had decided he needed to go along. He was running out of time to buy his Christmas presents and he was far too busy with work during normal hours. Even his weekends were full up; if he wasn't racing around the world with Sydney, he was struggling to get everything finished before the term ended.

There was a sudden, strong gust of wind and Nigel wished he'd worn a scarf. He tucked his head down and struggled valiantly on. The bookstore wasn't much further now.

Nigel always had trouble deciding what to buy people for Christmas. Christmas was such a touch time for him. He had been thinking of prospective presents for weeks now; he'd sent Preston some American fudge because he always felt he should get his brother _something_, despite their differences, but he was still clueless as to what to buy Claudia and Sydney.

His instincts told him that he could get Claudia anything materialistic and she'd love it, but he wanted to try to be more personal than that. And Sydney… Well, the best idea he could come up with for Sydney was a book. He'd already scourged the local antiques stores and come out unsuccessful, so a book really did seem like the next best thing.

The town was all lit up with fairy lights but Nigel didn't really notice them. Fairy lights always seemed so _false_. As he walked down the highstreet, he ignored the shop windows, full of their Christmas sales displays, and the other late-night shoppers. This time of year always made him grumpy.

Eventually, Nigel arrived at the bookstore and he shuffled gratefully inside. A sales assistant greeted him and tried to hand him a catalogue and basket. Nigel shook his head and refused both, hurriedly moving off into the shelves. He did not have money to spend on lots of books and if he took a basket he would be far too tempted.

Peeling off his gloves, Nigel climbed the stairs for the non-fiction and headed towards the "History" section. It was tucked into one corner and there was nobody else there.

Nigel smiled. Warm, and alone with the books; just as he liked. Now, if only they'd turn off those carols, he'd be wonderfully happy.

The problem with buying Sydney a book was that she already had so many of them. There was a high chance that she'd own whatever Nigel bought her, but that just couldn't be helped.

Nigel ambled along to the table set up with the latest releases. Perhaps Sydney wouldn't have time to buy any of these before Christmas; God knew she was as busy as him.

He picked up a hardcover with a picture of an English gentleman dressed in a red coat. _A Royal Affair_, Nigel read; _George III and his Scandalous Siblings._ Nigel pulled his glasses out of his pocket and opened the cover to read the blurb printed on the inside. It sounded quite interesting really, he thought; it was about the mad King's wild and promiscuous younger siblings, something that was not generally in the spotlight.

Even so, he wasn't sure if it was Sydney's cup of tea. It was perhaps a bit too modern for her. Nigel replaced the book and headed into the Ancient History section. He immediately began to browse the books there on Egypt and soon he was lost in the photographs of the amazing pyramids. However many times he looked at such photos, he was still always awed.

Before Nigel knew it, an hour had passed and he still had not decided on anything for Sydney. There were a few books he thought sounded particularly good and he kept hold of one (an account of Egypt's "Mysterious Prehistory"), but there was still nothing that really leapt out at him as being a perfect gift. It was highly frustrating.

Sighing, Nigel plodded back downstairs. Perhaps he could find something in fiction that would suit his friend. He had never seen her read fiction but he could not believe that she _didn't_. It was all too easy to picture Sydney curled up in bed with some exciting adventure or horror story.

That was where he headed now: to the horror section. He completely ignored the romance books; his tough, action-loving Sydney would never read _that_ trash.

Nigel strolled casually down the aisle and plucked a book from the shelf at random: James Herbert's _Once_. It had an intriguing cover but he soon replaced it; he couldn't see Sydney enjoying a story about real-life fairies, however "Bad" they were.

He came across a book called _The Book of the Dead_, with an Egyptian-themed cover. This seemed more likely! But when he read the back, he sighed in annoyance. It was the third in a series and he couldn't help but scoff at the plotline of supernatural occurrences in the American Museum of History. He began to think that perhaps it wasn't so wise looking for a book with such a similar story to what they themselves experienced on their travels; Sydney might be less likely to enjoy it and more likely to pick out where the characters made ridiculous mistakes.

Frowning, Nigel moved on, now at a loss. His dislike for Christmas and for shopping returned full-force.

He had wandered into the "Crime" section and it drew him up short, pondering. Perhaps, just perhaps, _this_ was Sydney. She would not be repulsed by any of the gory details that might accompany murders or violence, and it would be just the kind of thing to keep her interested. He could well imagine her trying to figure out the truth and guess the plot twists before they happened.

With renewed enthusiasm, Nigel began to browse.

Another thirty minutes passed without Nigel being any closer to a decision. Now he held the Egyptian book and six possible crime paperbacks. He was starting to get very confused.

'Hello,' said a voice. 'Do you need a hand?'

Nigel turned to face a blonde woman smiling rather mischievously at him. She was dressed in a black suit and carried her own small pile of books.

'Urm, well,' began Nigel, blushing a little. Shifting the books he held into the crook of his arm, he tried to push his glasses back up his nose with the other hand. It didn't work very well; the books tumbled from their precarious position. Nigel floundered to catch them all.

The woman laughed and placed her own books on a nearby table. She helped Nigel gather the items he hadn't been able to catch.

'You look highly confused,' she said as she passed him the last fallen book.

Nigel's blush deepened, but it was true- he _was_ rather bewildered. 'Well, I… I… I'm not _normally_ confused when it comes to books!'

She laughed again. 'I can believe that. Would you like some help?'

It never occurred to Nigel in his flustered state that she was not a sales assistant. He still hesitated before admitting defeat, but hearing the voice over the tannoy announce that the shop would be closing in fifteen minutes, he gave in.

'Yes, please. I've never read crime before. Do you have any recommendations?'

'Well, for _you_-' she looked him up and down- 'I'd suggest something light to begin with. I don't think you'd do too well with the heavy murder scenes.'

'Oh no!' exclaimed Nigel. 'That's what I'm looking for!'

She raised her eyebrows, blinking at him in surprise. Silently cursing his blundering tongue, Nigel coloured again.

'It's not for me. It's for a friend, but I think that's what she'd enjoy.'

'A rather sadistic friend you have there,' she replied dryly and moved towards the bookshelves. 'Is this a close friend?' As her fingers ran along spines, she peered at him over her shoulder.

'Yes,' Nigel admitted, his gaze dropping to his feet. 'She's my boss, but we've been through a lot together.'

_Understatement of the year_, he thought sarcastically.

'Well,' said the blonde woman, pulling a book off the shelf, 'she's a lucky lady. Here, this is good. There are quite a few unexpected twists but it's still quite action-packed. It was the first crime book I read and it really got me into the genre.'

'Thanks,' Nigel managed and began to replace the books he had selected. Luckily he hadn't damaged any when he had dropped them.

'This one is quite good, too,' she said, plucking one out of his hand.

Nigel didn't fail to notice how she brushed her hand against his. He felt his skin grow hot again; she was too pretty to be a mere sales assistant in a bookstore.

'Thanks, I'll take them both.' He took the book back off her and collected the Egyptian one too. Three books should just about cover Syd's present. 'Well, thank you for all your help.' He took a step away and gave her a cautious smile.

'Hey, would you like to get a drink or something?'

He frowned, although his heart sped up at the idea. 'What time does your shift finish?'

She frowned too, but a moment later burst into laughter. 'I don't work here! Lord, no! I'm an accountant.'

'Oh.' Nigel knew that his whole face was beetroot-red, right to the tips of his ears. He'd never felt more foolish. 'Sorry.'

Luckily, she didn't seem offended. In fact, she continued to laugh. She thrust out her hand. 'I'm Sally Wilson.'

Nigel smiled and shook her hand, careful not to spill his books again. 'Nigel Bailey.'

'So what about that drink then, Nigel Bailey?'

'Let me just-' he indicated the books he held and she smiled.

'Of course. I'll wait by the door.'

'You're not going to buy any of those?' Nigel asked, nodding at the pile she had been carrying earlier. He had thought she had been re-shelving them, but knowing she was not an employer now, he assumed otherwise.

'Hmm? Oh, no. I shouldn't spend so much of my pay on books, anyway.'

Nigel felt his insides warm. He liked the idea of having such a common interest with this pretty blonde woman. Fairly bouncing on the balls of his feet, he walked over to the cashier. If she still wanted to go for a drink with him after seeing him drop a pile of books, perhaps she would not be repulsed by his normal clumsy behaviour.

Nigel handed over the three books he had selected for Sydney and the money. As he left, he thought, _now I only have to find Claudia something_, and was pleased with himself.

Sally was waiting for him by the door, wearing a large smile. She had put on a knee-length winter coat and redone her make-up while he was busy; now her lips were temptingly red. As they left the store, she fell easily into step with him.

'So where would you like to go, Nigel?'

'Somewhere close, so we can get out of the cold.'

Sally laughed, and Nigel decided he liked the sound. He smiled and put his gloves on, once again wishing he had brought a scarf.

'I know just the place. It's just around the corner here.'

He let her lead and they arrived in a few minutes. It looked very modern and Nigel's insides knotted a little. He was not sure this was a good idea; he wasn't good with dating and he was definitely not good with these flashy cocktail bars.

Still, he followed Sally inside. She was right; it _was_ warm and he removed his gloves and long coat. Taking off her own coat and suit jacket, Sally headed straight to the bar and swung up onto one of the tall stools. Nigel dodged the young men and women in not very many clothes and very gingerly lifted himself onto the adjacent stool.

'What would you like to drink, Nigel?'

His eyes flicked to the bar but the flashing neon lights and racks of bottles gave him no inspiration. 'I'll have whatever you're drinking- and let me buy it.'

Sally smiled again and ordered two cocktails that Nigel had never heard of before. The barman soon placed a pair of purple drinks in front of them and while Nigel watched the alcohol dubiously, he handed the money over, reluctant to pay so much for drinks that looked so… _luminescent._

Sally picked up her drink and took a long gulp. 'Aah, lovely,' she said as she replaced it on the bar. 'So, Nigel, what do you do?'

'I'm a teacher's assistant at Trinity College,' he admitted, feeling it was a little worthless compared to an accountant.

'That's nice. Do you enjoy it?' Sally picked up her glass and swirled the liquid around.

Nigel thought of everything his job entailed. Marking papers, taking classes, dealing with stressed or lazy students, hopping on planes at last-minute notice, trekking across strange countries, being shot at, tied up, nearly sacrificed, nearly killed, and altogether thoroughly shaken up.

'Yes,' he said. 'Yes, I do.'

Sally smiled and placed her chin in the heel of her hand. Nigel took a wary sip of his drink. 'What department do you work for?'

'Ancient Studies.'

She raised her eyebrows. 'Somehow I had you down as an Art fellow…'

'Me? Art?' Nigel scoffed. 'I can't paint to save my life.' With the number of occasions he'd had to do strange things to keep his neck intact, that comment gave him interesting mental images.

Sally just shrugged.

'Do you enjoy accountancy?' Nigel asked politely.

'It's rather mundane, but it brings the money in.'

Nigel smiled and the conversation drifted down other routes. They finished their purple cocktails and ordered another round of drinks. By the time those were gone, Nigel was beginning to feel rather light-headed.

Sally ran a finger up his arm. 'So… do you want to come back to mine for some coffee? We could get to know each other a little better.'

Nigel didn't know what was wrong with him; after all, she was pretty and they had been getting along fine, but he baulked at her words. As usual, he panicked.

'No, no, no. Really, that's fine,' he said and began to gather his belongings. 'It's been lovely to meet you, Miss Wilson, really it has, but I had better be going now. I have to be in early tomorrow, you know. Busy busy.'

The accountant pouted; she knew she had pushed it too far.

'Maybe we can meet up another time,' Nigel stuttered, trying to pull a glove onto the wrong hand.

'I'd like that,' Sally purred.

Nodding and smiling, Nigel backed away and hurriedly left the bar. He didn't know what had come over him, really he didn't. They had been having a pleasant conversation and they seemed to have plenty in common. It really wasn't like him to pass up on such a golden opportunity, but something just had not been right. He went out into the cold winter night.

He didn't even realise where he was walking until he got there. So involved was he in his thoughts, he did not notice that his feet had led him all the way to Sydney's house until he was ringing the door bell.

In fact, it was the echo of the doorbell that jolted Nigel back to reality. He realised he was shivering, and he began to panic again. Why on earth had he come here? He turned to go, but knew he couldn't do that to Sydney, of all people.

The door opened just then anyway.

'Nigel!' Sydney was clearly very surprised to see him on her doorstep.

'Syd,' he gasped, not knowing what else to say. He was suddenly aware of how cold he was.

'What are you doing here?' She wasn't cross- or at least, she didn't sound it.

As she wrapped her arms around herself, Nigel took in what she was wearing and realised it must be later than he had thought. A black vest clung tightly to her curves, and a pair of loose cotton pyjama bottoms were slung low on her hips.

'Er, I've been shopping,' Nigel managed to say, keeping his eyes averted.

Sydney's eyebrows rose. 'Where are your purchases?'

It was then Nigel realised that he was no longer carrying his precious cargo of books. In despair, he remembered propping it up against the leg of his stool in the smoky bar. He must have left it there.

He could feel himself flushing warmly again, but instead of looking like the fool, he muttered, 'I- er- couldn't find anything.'

Sydney just gave him _that_ look. 'So, do you want to come in?'

'Er, actually, I don't know why I came here,' he admitted. 'I'll see you tomorrow, Syd.' Nigel started to back away, silently chastising himself for his ridiculous behaviour.

Sydney was frowning. 'Nigel, you can't turn up on my doorstep at this hour and not expect me to drag you inside.' She moved aside, holding the door wide open. 'In, now. I'm cold.'

'Syd…'

'Nigel.'

Knowing that tone of voice all too well, Nigel sighed and shuffled inside, his head hanging low.

'Good boy, Nige,' Syd teased as he hung his coat up and removed his shoes. He shot her a glare and followed her into her comfy living room. The TV was switched on but the volume was muted and a pile of papers and books sat on the coffee table, Syd's glasses on top and candles by the side. A half-empty bottle of red wine completed the homely scene. Maftet was stretched out across the top of the armchair and didn't bother to look up when Nigel entered.

Sydney sunk into her sofa and propped her feet up on a spare space on the coffee table. She patted the seat next to her. 'Sit,' she ordered, and Nigel perched on the edge.

'What's up, Nigel?'

'Nothing,' he replied automatically – and too quickly.

Sydney smiled. 'Right. Of course not. That's why you look like a harassed teenager. Do you want some wine?'

Nigel nodded and as she disappeared into the kitchen for a second glass, he gratefully relaxed into the couch.

'Were you working?' he asked when Sydney reappeared. 'Sorry to interrupt you.'

Syd smiled daftly at him. 'Don't be stupid. I'd much rather drink with you than mark.'

Nigel accepted the wine and gulped it down.

'Slow down, Nige. I don't want you collapsing on me.'

He put down the glass, abashed. 'Sorry, Syd.'

'Now, talk to me. What's happened?' When he didn't respond, Syd gave him a light push with his foot. 'Was it a woman?' In truth, she knew it had to be. Nothing got Nigel quite so worked up as this.

'No,' he said stubbornly.

Sydney smiled to herself but decided not to pursue the subject. If he didn't want to talk about it, she'd respect that.

'What were you shopping for then?' she asked, hoping to change the subject.

'Nothing in particular.'

Sydney laughed. 'Nigel, you're terrible at this!'

'At what?' He glared.

'At all this acting! Something _clearly_ upset you, and you wouldn't have gone shopping for nothing in particular. I'm guessing Christmas.'

'Maybe.' Nigel scowled and picked up his wine again. 'I don't really want to talk about it, Syd.'

'Fine,' she replied, but she was still smiling. 'Do you want to watch a movie or something? I've got some cold pizza in the kitchen if you're hungry.'

Nigel shrugged sulkily, but Syd could tell his heart wasn't in it. Telling him to select a film, she headed back into the kitchen for the aforementioned food and some other munchies. When she returned, he had already put the disc in the DVD player and settled back on her sofa. Sydney was glad to see that he looked more comfortable now, and she handed him a slice of pizza as she snuggled down beside him.

By the time the film finished several hours later they were both curled up and nearly fast asleep. Maftet had disappeared long ago, as had all the pizza. Nigel's discomfort, too, had long since gone.

'Nigel,' Sydney murmured sleepily, poking him gently in the shoulder.

'Hmmm?'

'I need bed. Sleep.'

As if in agreement, Nigel yawned, but he managed to shift off her shoulder. 'Sorry, Syd.'

'Don't worry about it. If it wasn't for classes tomorrow, I'd watch another movie with you.'

Nigel yawned again. 'I'd just fall asleep.'

She smiled. 'Me too.'

'I'd better get going.'

Sydney frowned. 'It's far too late for you to be going home, Nige.'

'Syd…'

'Nigel. You can sleep here; it's quite a comfortable sofa. Trust me; I've fallen asleep on it plenty of times in the past.'

He sighed. 'You're not going to change your mind, are you?' Despite his words, he didn't really fancy the walk home, or splashing out for a cab.

Sydney grinned. 'Nope. Use the bathroom while I get you some bedding; you know where it is.'

'You don't have to do this, Syd. I shouldn't have even interrupted your evening.'

'Nigel, stop it. What are friends for? Now, go.'

Sighing, the Englishman shuffled off to her neat and tidy bathroom, almost asleep on his feet but still managing to mutter under his breath about bossy females.

--

The next morning, Sydney sent Nigel home and told him to come in late once he'd managed to shower properly and change, and generally sort himself out. He'd teased her about not needing him, but they both knew that wasn't true.

She was laughingly relaying the events of last night to Claudia before her first class when there was a knock on the door of the office.

Both women turned to see a tall, smartly-dressed blonde in the door.

'Hi. This is Ancient Studies, right?'

Sydney slid off the edge of her secretary's desk. 'Yes, I'm Sydney Fox. How may I help you?'

'Is Nigel Bailey around?'

Sydney's eyebrows rose; she snuck a glance at Claudia who was giving their visitor an appraising glance. Trying to suppress her grin, Sydney turned back.

'No,' she replied. 'I'm afraid he's out of the office at the moment.'

'Oh.' The woman pouted. 'Will he be back any time soon?'

Secretly, Sydney really hoped Nigel didn't walk in right then. 'I'm not sure about that.'

The woman sighed. 'Can I leave something for him?'

'Of course.'

She handed over a heavy bag and asked for a pen and paper to write a note. Claudia came forward and both secretary and relic hunter waited impatiently to see what Nigel's latest conquest had to say in her love letter.

The woman handed Sydney the note, smiled, thanked them, and left. Syd waited until the door was shut behind her before unfolding the paper. It read, simply:

_You left this at the bar. Ring me sometime._

It was followed with a phone number, which Claudia immediately scribbled down in her diary in case of "future needs", she said.

Risking Nigel's wrath but unable to silence her curiosity, Sydney glanced inside the bag and pulled out the books. Seeing what they were, everything clicked into place and she laughed loudly, much to Claudia's confusion.

Sydney replaced the books in the bag and put it with the note on her assistant's desk.

'Are you going to say anything to him?' Claudia asked.

'No,' replied Sydney with a smile. 'He'll only get flustered.'

'Aw, but I like making Nigel flustered.'

But Sydney didn't hear her. She had changed her mind; feeling a little naughty, she took a fresh piece of notepaper and wrote _"We approve" _ in big letters. She added it to the other note, collected her bag, and left for class.

As she left the office (and as Claudia added kisses to the note), Sydney called laughingly over her shoulder, 'Give Nigel my love!'

Oh, she couldn't wait to tease him later.

---


End file.
